thirteen

Voici la traduction en anglais du Chapitre 13 :

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Chapter 13

Rising to her feet, Claire walked decisively over to a cupboard and declared:

"I had promised myself not to give you any data, but since we're talking about public records..."

She handed him a folder and added:

"If you want to know the island's crime rate, here's something to read. I warn you—it won't take long. Still, maybe it will reassure you and your boss about our community."

"Oh, come on. I'm well aware the crime rate is extremely low. Still, you're living in an illusion if you think you can seduce the future with the past. Every weekend, thousands of foreigners land on your shores, and you have only the most rudimentary resources to monitor them."

Narrowing his eyes, he added:

"A criminal could easily slip in among them."

Claire pressed the file against her chest and stared at him gravely before replying:

"You know, Jack, I'm glad your security decisions are limited to the dolphin enclosure. And I feel sorry for you."

"Spare me your condescension, Claire! At least I don't turn a blind eye to the realities of our society."

"I hope I never see the world through your eyes," she snapped. "It must be exhausting to suspect everyone you pass, to walk through a grove and expect an attacker to jump out from behind a tree."

She paused to catch her breath, then continued in a calmer tone:

"I don't question the sincerity of your convictions, Jack, nor the effectiveness of your methods. With a man like you, Archie Adelson can sleep soundly. But you haven't understood the way we live. Tourists have been flocking to this island for decades. They come for our cuisine, our coastline, our art galleries, and aside from a few petty thefts, nothing serious has ever happened. At worst, a towel goes missing from a hotel or an ashtray from a café terrace. Billy and Gail can handle such trivial matters."

"And could they react in the event of real danger?"

"Of course they could! They're state-certified!" she exclaimed, growing increasingly irritated. "I'm perfectly aware the world isn't perfect, but I refuse to live in constant fear the way you do. And I won't let your paranoia infect my citizens."

Jack shook his head, unconvinced.

"It's hard to afford the luxury of wearing blinders with an uncertain future ahead," he retorted. "Especially in a leadership position like yours. We live in dangerous times that demand heightened vigilance, whether you like it or not, Claire."

Closing his notebook, he concluded:

"You can't protect your citizens with cops riding around in golf carts."

Claire then placed the file back in the cupboard, slammed the door shut, and declared:

"As for you, you have no right to jump to conclusions based on false information. Come with me! I want to show you something..."

Jack knew he couldn't revolutionize the mindset of the islanders. He was well aware of that. Still, he couldn't understand Claire's logic. How could she defend such blatant complacency when trouble could erupt at any time, in any part of the world—including in her own privileged backyard? Had she never watched CNN? Perhaps that was the answer... to see the world through rose-colored glasses, you simply had to avoid the news entirely.

Jack might have criticized Claire's naiveté, but he couldn't fault her affection for her citizens. Still... why was she so determined to ignore the advice of a security expert, handsomely paid for his expertise? Most mayors of small districts would've welcomed his suggestions.

He followed her into a room filled with books—in other words, the town library! A spontaneous smile lit up his face: the island certainly knew how to make the most of the few public buildings it had. Within this fifty-square-meter space stood the police station, the library, and the mayor's office.

"This way," Claire ordered, opening a door that led out to a backyard.

And then, as if she had opened a hidden door in a castle, Jack stood speechless. In front of him was a genuine black-and-white police vehicle, just as the law required, with a fixed siren on the roof and a partition separating the front and back seats. It was a Ford Crown Victoria, an eight-cylinder model used about fifteen years ago, before police forces switched to smaller, more maneuverable vehicles. Still, this one was a beauty!

Jack circled the car, admiring the shiny bodywork from every angle. Why were the island's police riding around in golf carts when they had such a prestigious official vehicle? After his meticulous inspection, he turned to Claire and asked:

"Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?"

"I was saving the best for last. And I'm glad I impressed you..."

She approached the gleaming Ford and gently ran her fingers along the bodywork before explaining:

"The municipality bought it in 1992. Lou is in charge of its maintenance."

"No doubt he does a fine job," Jack admitted.

"How many miles does it have on the odometer?"

"A little over a hundred thousand. We mostly use it as an official car to attend meetings on the mainland."

"Have you ever caught criminals with this little beast?"

He had no doubt that in a car chase, the Ford Crown Victoria could easily outperform most other vehicles—except maybe a sports coupe. And even then, he wasn't sure.

"It has happened," Claire confirmed. "In coordination with the Micopee police, we can trap them on the bridge connecting the island to the mainland. All it takes is for our colleagues to wait for them at the foot of the bridge, on the other side."

"And what do you do with your offenders? Is there a jail on the island?"

She hesitated for a moment before reluctantly admitting:

"No, we don't have a detention center. We've occasionally locked someone up in the old ammunition depot—the island's only building dating back to the Civil War. We then quickly transfer them to Micopee."

"I hope the depot was empty," Jack quipped, unable to resist the jab.

"Very funny! Though I wouldn't mind locking up a petty thief in a place full of bullets. He'd have to be pretty robust to injure someone just by throwing a handful of ammo."

"Touche!" Jack acknowledged. "Still, I maintain that one police car isn't enough."

"Of course it is—especially since we also have four golf carts," Claire shot back.

He held his tongue, knowing the discussion wouldn't lead anywhere.

"Let's move on," he said. "What about the island's medical infrastructure and its ambulances?"

"Take a look for yourself..."

Not far from the Crown Victoria, an ambulance was parked.

"Just one?" Jack asked.

"That's plenty. We also have two paramedics."

"Do they have to transport residents to the mainland every time one of your citizens falls ill?"

"Only if Dr. Tucker is unavailable, or if the case requires hospitalization."

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